A/N: This is the second of my WIPs that I found was actually completed but not posted, just waiting for me to gather the courage to post it. It's two parts, but only because this turned out different from what my original thought process was and I wanted to explore that original thought. The second part starts out the same way, but takes a drastically different direction in the middle. You'll see :)
The Morning After
You wake up slowly to the smell of honey, cigarette smoke, and basil. The scent is intoxicating, inviting you to nuzzle your face closer to the source and suck in a deep breath. The pillow beneath your head is soft and the blankets warm. Despite the ache in your head, you had never felt more comfortable in all your life.
You take in another breath and your lips spread in a soft smile. You really didn't want to admit you were awake. You would highly prefer to stay snuggled up in warm blankets that smelled like the skeleton you'd been crushing on for the past two years.
Suddenly, your eyes spring open. Why, you wonder, were you enveloped by his scent? You take a moment to look around you. Although you'd been in Stretch's room before, you'd never been in his bed. Not even for a quick nap, regardless of how many times he'd invited you there. His invitations had never been sexual; he had merely insisted that you could sleep in his bed if you'd stayed too long playing video games or watching movies with him and his brother. Blue had offered his bed as well, and you likened Stretch's invitation to Blue's: friendly and polite. You'd never taken Blue up on his offer, either, worried you might cause tension between you and Stretch if he thought you were deliberately avoiding his offer.
So why were you now waking up in Stretch's bed? As you look around his room for the fifth time, trying to come to terms with the fact that you were actually where you thought you were, you thought over the events of the night before.
You had come to the summer party Blue had thrown for whatever occasion—the small-statured and energetic skeleton could turn almost anything into a reason for a party—and had indulged perhaps a little too much in the alcohol that had been brought. You remembered dancing with people you barely knew, human and monster alike, before finally dancing with Stretch. You may have let your inhibitions go a little too far. You remembered flirting with him. Stars be damned, you actually flirted with him. You'd even tried to kiss him.
You sigh and bring a hand up to your forehead. What had you done? You and the skeleton brothers had an easy friendship. You could drop by at any time to hang out, watch movies, vent your frustrations over your shitty job and careless friends, or anything you felt you needed. Blue was always quick to lend a metaphorical ear, and he had some of the best advice anyone had ever given you. Stretch never judged you, even when you broke down one night and confessed to thoughts of hurting yourself. He'd held you on the couch and listed off reasons you should love yourself instead.
That night had been the first time you realized you liked the skeleton more than as a friend. At first, you thought it was simply because of how vulnerable you'd been and how calmly he'd reacted, not taking advantage of your state or telling you that you were somehow broken. You'd had other friends who had done just that, and it never ended well.
So you never said anything to him. You didn't want to risk playing with his emotions if your feelings were going to fade back into friendship.
But they never did. Even after you fought about the stupidest of shit and you'd seen firsthand just how low his lows could be, you only felt more attracted to him. By the time you'd convinced yourself that maybe you wouldn't end up breaking his heart, he was already involved in a relationship. You refused to bring it up at that point. You would not be the one to put any strain on his happiness.
His relationship had lasted a full year before the girl cheated on him. It had torn him apart so fully that he swore he'd never commit to another relationship. You wanted to try to help him, but you weren't sure how. After that, you noticed his interest in women changed from steady partners to one-night stands. As badly as you wanted to be with him, you knew you wouldn't be able to handle being something fleeting to him. You wanted commitment, and he wasn't into that anymore.
You sit up and carefully drag a hand through your tousled hair. As you shifted to swing your legs over the edge of the bed, your body stilled. You look down at yourself and realize that you're wearing a tight blank tank top—no bra—and stringy thong underwear. On the floor next to bed were your far-too-short jean shorts, flip-flops, and lacy bra from the night before.
You feel your stomach churn as your mind plays over the only thing this could mean. You'd slept with Stretch. In your drunken haze, you had come on to him and he'd reciprocated. He had likely been drunk as well.
Gingerly, you pick up your shorts and begin to slide them up your legs. Your whole body feels cold, but you can't really say if it's because of the loss of the warmth from his bed or the realization that you may have ruined your friendship with Stretch. And, by association, Blue. As much as you adored the younger, smaller skeleton, you couldn't hang out with him and ask him to separate himself from his brother. Not only was that unfair and cruel, you knew he'd never go for it. He'd cut you out of his life before he'd ask his brother to stay away during your friendly dinner and movie nights.
You strip your tank top only long enough to put on your bra, then dress again. Your feet slip into your flip-flops, and you notice your phone sitting on the table beside the bed. You pick it up and realize that Stretch had plugged it into his charger. Your heart felt heavy as you unplugged it. He was too sweet.
You sat back down on the edge of the bed as you looked through your phone. Some of the pictures from the night before had you smiling, some had you grimacing, but one had you nearly in tears. Stretch held the phone out, the bright orange sleeve of his sweatshirt taking up nearly a third of the picture. The smile on your lips was lopsided and so very drunk, and your eyes were hazy. His bony eyelids were low, and he had a soft tangerine glow on his cheekbones as he held you close to him with an arm around your shoulders. Your face was beet red, probably blushing at some flirt you'd said to him. You could practically see yourself holding out the phone to him and declaring the need for a selfie with him. His arms were so much longer and so he was far more capable of yielding a decent photo.
With a sigh, you stand back up and slip the phone into your pocket. It's nearly ten in the morning; far past time you should be up. You were honestly a little surprised Blue hadn't come in to wake you up. Then again, maybe he was afraid he'd find you indecent. You felt your face flush again—you were loud when you were sober; how much had Blue heard the night before?
Curiosity urged your forward to find out exactly how messed up things were, but at the same time, fear held you back.
Before you can make up your mind, a soft knock on the door makes you jump. The door opens to reveal Stretch dressed in a long black tank top and khaki cargo shorts that went to his knees. He starts at the sight of you up and dressed.
"oh. hey, honey. you're up?"
His deep voice was usually so soothing to you. You loved the nickname he'd given you, even if he was the one that smelled like honey.
You shove your hands into your pockets and look down at your feet. "Um, yeah. I was just gonna come down."
He nodded and held out a bony hand. "breakfast is ready. how you feelin'?"
A part of you wonders if breakfast is usually a thing he does with his girls as you take his hand. Another part of you realizes that's probably not the case. He was the king of lazy and never expended any kind of effort he didn't need to. What was this about then? Maybe Blue had convinced him to invite you to eat with them?
"I'm okay, I think. My head hurts."
He pulls you out the door and shuts it behind him before leading you down the hall. "i'll accept the fact that you're not hunched over the toilet puking or writhing in hungover agony as a thank you for making you drink water."
You didn't remember that. Still, knowing how sloshed you'd been the night before, it really was a miracle you weren't more hungover. "Thanks, Stretch." You squeezed his fingers.
At the table, he pulls out a chair for you. Ever the gentleman. You smile at him, then at Blue who was happily munching away at a small mountain of pancakes on his plate.
"GOOD MORNING!" he shouts happily. It was almost too loud for your headache to handle. "DID YOU SLEEP WELL, Y/N?"
You give him a small smile as Stretch loads your plate with two medium-sized pancakes, two slices of bacon, and a small pile of eggs. "I think so?" You glance at Stretch out of the corner of your eye, nervous to say much. "I, um…can't really remember much." Stars, did you wish you could. There was no doubt in your mind that Stretch was an incredible lover. It only hurt worse to know that you'd finally had him and couldn't even remember it.
But Stretch didn't seem affected by that. He sat down coolly after pouring syrup on your pancakes and honey on his own and started eating.
Blue gave you a disapproving look. "I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHY ALCOHOL ALWAYS HAS TO BE INVOLVED! I NEVER SAID IT WAS OKAY, BUT SOMEONE BROUGHT IT AND I COULDN'T CONTROL IT AFTER THAT." He huffs and gives his pancakes a frown.
You feel bad for a moment; you knew he didn't approve of alcohol use, especially yours. You were his friend, though, and so he worried about you more than other people.
"I'm sorry, Blue," you say sincerely.
He perks up, giving you his blinding grin. "IT'S OKAY, Y/N. AT LEAST YOU'RE OKAY. STRETCH AND I WERE WORRIED ABOUT YOU LAST NIGHT. THAT'S WHY STRETCH HAD YOU SLEEP WITH HIM!"
You nearly choke on a bite of eggs. Why was Blue so approving of this? You knew all about how much he hated his brother's flings. He wanted his brother to stop using women and get to a mental place where he felt he could have a relationship again. Your sleeping with him last night wasn't exactly conducive to that plan. You cast a tentative glance at Stretch who was just watching you with his usual patient gleam in his sockets. You caught the slightest hint of tangerine on his cheekbones and the way his sockets flitted to his brother for a half a second, though.
"in my bed, he means," Stretch said, the color on his face darkening slightly.
Blue huffed. "WELL OF COURSE; WHAT ELSE WOULD I—OH." His whole face turned bright cyan. "THAT WAS NOT WHAT I MEANT WHEN I TOLD YOU TO TAKE HER TO YOUR ROOM, PAPYRUS!"
The small skeleton rarely got angry. And by rarely, that meant you had only seen it happen once in the five years you'd known the skeleton brothers. It had been a terrifying experience you really didn't want to repeat ever again. You flinch as he all but roared at his brother, his cute little voice now a scary growl. He stands up, placing his fists on the table, knuckles down, and leaned over slightly. His eye lights, usually bright blue stars, were small circles that seemed to shiver in his sockets.
Stretch was a guy you had never seen angry before. Even when his long-term girlfriend cheated on him. At that time, he'd gotten sad and drunk and made some questionable choices, but he wasn't even angry enough to raise his voice. Once, when Blue had had his fit, you'd seen Stretch's eyes light up with magic, but even then he hadn't gotten out of his seat. The way he calmly set his napkin down and stood up was somehow terrifying to you.
Before he could say anything, you stand up and quickly throw your arms out between he brothers. You tried to push Blue back, but he wasn't budging.
"Guys, hey, calm down." You give up trying to push Blue down, so you step toward Stretch and wrap your arms around one of his to try to get him to sit back down. No such luck. "You don't need to fight over this. It's no big deal, right?" So what if your chance to have a relationship with the skeleton you loved had been ruined by your drunken ass?
"IT IS A BIG DEAL!" Blue screeches. "YOU WERE DRUNK!" He punches the table, causing the dishes to clatter.
"sans." Stretch's voice was far too calm. You look up at him, a bit surprised to see his eyes alight with his signature orange magic. "i'm going to take our friend home, and then you and i are going to talk." He pulls his arm from your grasp to take a step back and then looks down at you. "got what you came with?"
You swallow and nod; you had walked over and had only brought your phone with you so you could take pictures.
Stretch walks away to get his shoes on. His strides are long and heavy, betraying the emotion he's clearly trying to hide.
Blue steps up to you and grips your hand, holding tightly. "I THINK I SHOULD TAKE HER HOME, BROTHER. YOUR ABILITY TO MAKE GOOD DECISIONS HAS CLEARLY BEEN COMPROMISED."
To your surprise, Stretch doesn't make a joke out of his brother's comments. Instead, he stalks up to the both of you, his entire stance rigid. You can feel Blue getting tense beside you. It's worrisome, to say the least. As Stretch gets closer, you hear a deep rumble. Is he growling?
"back. off. bro."
Yes, he's definitely growling. Despite your fear of his current state, you can't help but feel a shot of pleasure run through your gut. Damn, why does that skeleton have to be so hot? Seeing him like this—powerful and damn near feral—made you want to jump him right there. It would only be fair to get a repeat performance of the night before since you couldn't remember, right?
Blue is obviously startled by his brother's state as well. You can feel him start to shake next to you, clearly affected by his brother's command. Instead of obeying, however, he pushes you back a little and straightens his spine.
It occurs to you that he's standing up to his older brother for you. He's defending you. Either because he's really scared for you (that didn't make you feel very nice) or because he was trying to protect what honor you might have left after the night before. You want to put a hand on his shoulder to reassure him, but a memory of sharp, magical bones and the danger they represented made you stop.
"I CAN'T DO THAT, PAPY. SHE MEANS TOO MUCH TO ME. I'M SORRY, BUT I CAN'T LET YOU HURT HER AGAIN."
Whatever may have happened last night, you were absolutely certain it hadn't hurt. You wanted to say as much, but Stretch was advancing again.
"i'm sorry you can't see how much she means to me, too. i'm sorry you think i'd hurt her." He turns his attention to you. "you scared 'a me?"
Your brow furrows. "No, of course not."
"not even after what my bro thinks i did last night?" He shoves his hands into his sweater pockets, glaring at you as though your answer to this question was about to change his world.
You swallow and slowly shake your head. "No. I know you'd never hurt me." Physically, anyway. And it really wasn't his fault that continuing his cycle of one-night stands would hurt you. That was your own damn fault.
His sockets narrow, and he takes a small step closer. "what do you remember from last night?"
"Um…I, uh, remember coming over and dancing, drinking of course…flirting with you." You look down and catch Blue staring up at you. He only came to your shoulder. You place a gentle hand on the back of his skull. "I'm glad that I mean so much to you, Blue," you say softly, "but Stretch didn't hurt me last night."
To your surprise, Blue doesn't seem to calm down at all. Instead, he shakes a little harder, and you catch the sight of cyan tears gathering in his sockets.
"YOU CAN'T GIVE YOUR FULL CONSENT IF YOUR INHIBITIONS ARE LOWERED," he said, surprisingly softly. "NO MATTER HOW WILLING YOU ARE WHEN YOU'RE SOBER." He shot a look at Stretch then.
Stretch growled again. "i figured we'd talk about this separately since it's not really a family affair, but okay. let's do this." He grabbed Blue's hand and tugged him forward, making him sit down in the chair he'd pulled out. He then grips your arm, and has you sit back in your seat. He stands between the two of you. "nothing happened last night, despite y/n's attempts." He looks at you. "you are a fucking temptress. but blue's right; you were drunk, and your consent was compromised." He then looks at Blue. "i'm not a rapist, bro. i didn't touch your precious human. she came on to me, and i pushed her away. you know, i think maybe it is best you take her home. i can't even believe my own brother thinks so little of me."
He turns on his heel and marches up the steps to his room. His door slammed so hard the pictures on the wall rattled.
You flinch and stare down at the uneaten remains of your breakfast. You'd only had a few bites, but you are suddenly the opposite of hungry.
"I'm sorry."
You look over at Blue, surprised by his tiny voice. You'd never heard him utter anything at such a low volume before. He stared down at his hands, still shaking, although you figure it's probably for a different reason now. He sniffles, another sound you'd never heard him make before, and looks up at you.
"I'm really sorry, y/n. I messed up."
You reach over the table to put a hand on his arm. "It's okay, Blue. I couldn't remember what had happened last night. Based on how I was dressed this morning, I assumed we'd slept together. I mean…you know what I mean." You blush and can't help but smile at the cyan that spread across his cheekbones.
He nodded contritely. "I do know." He sucked in a deep breath and let out a little whimper as he breathed out. "I didn't mean to hurt him. I made a bad assumption and didn't listen when he tried to correct me."
You're both silent for a few minutes. You aren't sure what to say. You really want to talk to Stretch, but you can't be sure that now is a good time to approach him. Instead, you decide to try to pick at your breakfast.
Blue sighs deeply and straightens his spine. "EAT YOUR BREAKFAST, Y/N," he says with gusto, seemingly feeling a little better since he was nearly shouting again. "THE MAGNIFICENT SANS KNOWS WHEN TO ADMIT FAULT. I…I NEED TO GO TALK TO MY BROTHER." He got up and stood beside you for a moment, looking at the stairs with something akin to dread written on his bony face. His hands curl into fists of determination, and he all but charges up the stairs to face his brother.
You try your hardest to mind your own business when you hear a timid knock on Stretch's door. Stretch's deep voice answers, but you can't make out what he says. He must have granted Blue entrance, because the little guy soon disappeared into his brother's room. Half of your attention is on the food in front of you, while the other half is on the voices you can hear carrying from upstairs. You still can't make out words, but from the tones it seems as if they're making up. You really hope that's the case. You would hate yourself if your stupid decisions caused a rift between them.
It wasn't long before the voices stopped, and everything went quiet. You'd eaten as much as you could, so you waited for a few moments to see if either skeleton was going to come down to walk you home. You didn't need them to; you only lived five houses down. Still, they'd made it a point to walk you home after every single night you'd spent with them. Even Stretch would walk with you rather than teleporting, saying you needed the exercise. You'd given him dirty looks the first few times he'd said that, but he soon explained that he'd read how good physical activity was for humans and never wanted your health to suffer because he teleported you places. You had accepted his justification only because walking with him meant you got more time with him, and you secretly hoped that was his real reason as well.
Ten minutes pass and the house was still silent. You drink the rest of your glass of water and decide you should probably head home. Not wanting to interrupt whatever bonding the skeletons were up to, you sent a longing look up the stairs and left the house.
The walk home was slow. Summer heat was already bearing down on you, and you're sweating by the time you make it to your door. You slip your key out from the little slot behind your phone case and let yourself in. You send a quick text to both Blue and Stretch, letting them know that you'd made it home safely, and then decide that you need a shower. You smell like alcohol and body odor.
The shower refreshes you. You let the water drizzle down your body, cleaning away all outward evidence of the party the night before. As you wash your hair, you think hard about what all had happened before you'd likely passed out. You vaguely remember hands on your waist—fleshy hands that feel nothing like Stretch's bones. Halitosis mixed with the acrid scent of alcohol fills your memory, and your nose scrunches.
The memory becomes clearer as you shave your legs and your armpits. A somewhat familiar, unpleasantly high-pitched man's voice was asking you to go home with him. You had wanted to be with Stretch, but he hadn't been responding to your flirtation moves. You had been close to actually going home with the guy before suddenly your face was plunged into Stretch's chest and you were dancing with him. You recall pressing your ear to his sternum, enjoying a deep rumble as it reverberated around in his chest. He'd been growling last night.
It hadn't been long after that when you were all but dragging him up the stairs to his room. You can't remember if he was the one to suggest going to bed or if you had brought it up first. Either way, the moment his door shut you tried to kiss him. You'd taken off your bra to try to entice him. You'd even stripped your shorts off in strip-tease fashion, gyrating your hips as you tried to seduce him.
In your memory, his face was stoic and cold. His hands touched you only enough to guide you to the bed, covered you up, and gave you a soft kiss to your forehead, and then he'd disappeared.
He'd said something, just before he was gone. You had smiled at the soft rumble of his voice against your ear. What had he said?
You cut off the water and reach out to grab the towel off the rack. As you dry off, you replay that moment in your mind over and over again, trying to make sense of what seemed like a jumbled mess of baritone breath against your skin. Whatever he'd said had made you smile and snuggle into his sheets. Hell if you could remember it now, though.
You wrap yourself in your towel and get to work drying your hair. Once that task is complete, you head to your room to pick out clothes for the day. Since it's the weekend and you don't have any plans, you choose a comfortable t-shirt and sweat pants. You grab your phone and head to the couch to slack off and watch some Netflix. Just before you turn on the TV, however, you decide to check your phone. You have a message from Stretch.
TolBoi: we need 2 talk
You feel yourself starting to dread this conversation. He'd called you a temptress, but that didn't mean he was interested in you. Based on the types of women you'd seen him bring home, you were pretty sure he didn't have a favorite body type, so maybe he could be attracted to your form. That didn't mean he'd want to be with you. He could very well be repulsed by the idea of sleeping with someone he knew.
You suck in a breath and decide that you can't hide from this. You need to try to work through this so maybe you can save your friendship.
You: I'm showered and dressed. No plans today.
You hesitate before hitting the send button. You feel like you should say more. Instead, you bite your lip and send the message. You wait a few minutes to see if he'll reply before going ahead with your plans and turning on the TV.
A half an hour passes before you get a reply. You pause your show and check the message.
TolBoi: gonna head out in a min see u soon
Okay, now your stomach is turning. You get up and pour yourself a glass of water before going back to your show. Not fifteen minutes later, there's a knock at your door. You can feel your palms sweating as you get up to answer it.
Stretch is there in all his handsome glory. The guy really is tall. The top of your head barely reaches his shoulders. You step back and let him in. He hasn't changed from his tank top and shorts, and now he's paired it with dark sunglasses with a cute strap around his skull and a pair of bright orange crocs. Him and his orange things. You smile as he lifts the sunglasses to rest against the top of his skull.
"hey."
You shut and lock the door behind him. He raises an eyebrow like he does every single time you do that. He had once joked about you locking him in. It was a habit to lock the door every time you closed it, and you didn't intend on changing it. Instead you turned to rest against the door.
"Hey."
You can't help but notice him looking you over. Was he remembering the night before? Was he thinking about how you'd moved your body in an attempt to seduce him? You sure as hell were. Instead of dwelling on that, you push away from the door and lead the way to the couch. He sits beside you, trying to appear laid back like usual, but you can tell he's hiding some hesitation.
"about last night…honey, i didn't…"
His face was bright orange. He sat up, giving up trying to appear nonchalant, and started wringing his hands together between his knees.
"I know you didn't, Stretch." You lean forward as well and reach out to put a hand on his left radius. "I kind of started remembering things. I'm sorry for what I did."
He pulls his arm from your grasp, and your heart is about to plummet when he takes your hand instead. He looks at you then, and you can see the trepidation in his eye lights.
"i couldn't let you leave with that guy. he'd been hitting on you since you started showing signs of being drunk, and it really took everything i had to not knock him out. when you started acting like you were going for it, i couldn't even try to control myself anymore. when you started stumbling around, blue suggested we keep you at our place for the night where we could keep an eye on you. i agreed, but we couldn't let you sleep on the couch when there were still people everywhere. that's why i took you to my room."
"I remember leading you up the stairs."
He smirks. "yeah. i suggested we get you to bed, meaning sleep, and your drunken brain apparently took it a different way."
You wince. "I really am sorry for that, Stretch. I don't even know what to say."
"don't say anything. you were drunk off your ass and clearly horny. i get it. didn't know you felt that way for me, though."
And here we go. You suck in a deep breath and let it out slowly, nodding as you did. "Yeah. About that."
He looks at you deeply, somehow seeming vulnerable in that moment. "do you really feel that way about me?"
You want to deny it. You want to pretend it was all the alcohol so you could guarantee your friendship with him, but that felt wrong. Instead, you find yourself nodding.
"Yeah, I do. I have for a while." You look down at your hand in his, suddenly enthralled by his phalanges.
"how long's a while?"
You shrug one shoulder. "Roughly two years."
"goddamn, honey." His fingers tighten around yours. "why didn't you ever say anything?"
"I didn't want to ruin our friendship. At first, I thought I felt that way because you stopped me from hurting myself. By the time I realized that wasn't the case—I actually, properly love you—you were with that bitch. Then she did what she did, and you weren't interested in romance anymore. Well, not long-term romance. I didn't want to be a fling only to have it put a strain on everything else we have."
His thumb runs across the back of your hand soothingly. He's quiet for a few long moments, and you can only assume he's thinking about how he feels about your confession. You tell yourself not to hold your breath; he doesn't feel the same.
"i'm sorry."
You look up at him then, confused by his response. "Why?"
He lifts your hand to his mouth, gently kissing the back of it. "because i let you believe you wouldn't be enough for me. i can't tell you how many times i wanted to ask you out. i was worried you'd think i was only asking for a quick fuck, so i kept my mouth shut. if i'd known how you felt, i could have…i don't know. done something different."
Your brow furrows. "What are you saying?" He couldn't mean what you think he means…could he?
"i mean, i would give anything to try with you, honey. not sex; not yet. let me take you to dinner, and we can see where this goes? i'll be done with bringin' other girls home. you're enough for me, honey. you've always been enough, but i've been too scared to ask."
He looks vulnerable again, staring into your eyes like your answer could either make him the happiest person alive or crush his soul. You smile, his words filling you with joy.
Instead of a verbal response, you lean forward and press your lips to his mouth. He stiffens momentarily before he melts into the kiss. One hand slips from yours to be placed gently on the side of your head, his palm resting on your cheek while his fingers slip into your hair. Your hand in his tightens its hold while your other hand reached up to touch his jaw.
You pull away from the kiss only far enough to see him. Your smile threatens to break your face in half at his flushed cheekbones. He smirks at you.
"i didn't quite get that, honey. i think you need to run that by me again."
You snort before leaning in and kissing him again. You sit together on the couch, sharing soft kisses for a while before something comes to your mind. You sit back and lick your lips.
"Um, Stretch?" You're not entirely sure how to ask this, but you are insanely curious.
Stretch just hums and pulls you in close to him as he sits back on the couch. You adjust yourself to be more comfortable against his bones.
"After you got me into bed last night, you said something. I can't, for the life of me, remember what it was. What did you say?" You squirm just enough to look up at him.
His face is bright orange. He mumbles something so quiet you can't understand him.
"What?"
He laughs, clearly nervous about something. "i, uh…" a cough "…well, i was kinda countin' on you not remembering it, so it's not something i would normally say. ever."
Oh, this was going to be good. You sit up just enough to turn and lean against him again, this time pressing your chest against his. You place a gentle kiss on his mouth. "So it was something sexual?"
"mm-hmm. i shouldn't have said it. i really wanted to give in last night, honey. i mean, it wasn't that hard to keep my hands to myself because you were drunk, but at the same time i want you so badly." His hands gripped your waist and held tightly. "i said, and i quote: 'come onto me like this again when you're sober and i'll fuck you better than you've ever been fucked before.'"
You feel your face ignite and your whole body begins to throb. You really hate being sober sometimes simply because you make more responsible decisions. You know that jumping into the sack with him now would be a bad idea. You need to get used to each other in a romantic way before exploring the emotions sex would bring up.
Stretch feels the same way. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead. "let me take you out a few times before you come onto me like that again, yeah?"
You smile and kiss him back. "I can do that."
